A WORMS TALE

Chapter 2

Home is where my hearts are

Little did Mr. Worm Guru know that those first few days in his first bin, which I must say was very well conceived and put together, would be as good as it would get for several weeks.

After a harrowing trip from Chicago, we were all ready for a little peace and quiet. The older worms needed time to explore the new surroundings, and the few never-satisfied a-holes that give all of us a bad image were looking for whatever worms are looking for when they hit the road.

Me, I was happy as a pig in slopÂwallowing in more food than what the elders said I could ever expect to see on the outside. Right then, I knew I would have no ambitions or desire to crawl away from all this. And that decision would prove to be the most important of my life.

From the very first day, though, the man just could not leave us alone. He was in our faces ALL the time, moving bedding around, sifting through food while we were eating, interrupting the most intimate times for the mature ones. Things were beginning to get pretty tense all around the place, and desperate times required drastic actions. It was time to show the man who would make this bin work.

As always, a consensus agreement couldnÂt be reached about what to do. Worms are notorious procrastinators, cliquish, and with way too many agendas. Some wanted to leave, some just needed a little more wiggle room, lots abstained from sexual encounters, and some got off their feed. Together, all the tactics began to make the squirm less attractive, even to the casual wormÂand to the man.

The message was getting acrossÂsomewhat. He began to realize we werenÂt happy campers, and he started to pay a little bit of attention to some of the worm stuff he was reading on the net, although I must say thereÂs lots of ridiculous and worthless worm poop (pardon the pun) out there. If only he, and everybody else, would pay attention to what we try to tell ÂemÂÂ